~~~

Once it becomes clear that Bright Sword and Bai Wen are about to enter the palace, some soldiers immediately start dashing for the gates to join them. An equally large group of enemy soldiers frantically tries to stop them.

They are a minority.

By large, most people on the battlefield see the folly of trying to break into the palace so early. After all, to enter the palace is to challenge General He Bin. It'd be the height of foolishness.

Mud is all too aware of that.

He fights against General He Bin’s commanders one after another. They are all cultivators in the Earth and Heaven Realm who vastly overestimate their capabilities and underestimate his. Each one he encounters is taken out with quick and brutal efficiency,

“What… what are you?” One of them asks with his dying gasps.

“I am Mud,” he says to the corpse.

It is the answer he has given himself countless times, yet it feels lacking now.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Colonel Peng,” Mud says as the old soldier appears next to him. His armor is dirty with the blood of his enemies. “I am afraid I don’t understand the question.”

Colonel Peng snorts and spits to the side.

“Of course you don’t,” he says. “I’ll make things simple then. I bring orders from General Nie Dan. Break into the palace. Murong Bang’s underling is taking far too many liberties.”

Mud’s first instinct is to try to find General Nie Dan’s face across the mass of soldiers and beasts killing each other. It’d be useless, of course. The man is too far back.

Still, distance does not stop Mud from feeling the general’s knowing eyes on him.

“If those are the general’s orders, then this Mud shall comply.”

Colonel Peng humors him by not saying anything in reply, not that Mud would have heard him. He is already flying across the battlefield. Any foe that tries to attack him is stopped in place. Any obstacle is removed swiftly. In the blink of an eye, he has already broken through the gates.

He immediately overhears a fascinating conversation.

“The Peerless Heavenly Sword,” Mud repeats, his voice echoing loudly across the corridor. “You will have to forgive this Mud for overhearing. I assure you it happened through pure happenstance. Eavesdropping is an uncouth habit. Nevertheless, this Mud cannot help but notice that is the name of one of the three powers from beyond the Dead Plains.”

He tilts his head.

“How can you possibly be a member of it?”

Instead of answering him, the one called Bright Sword looks at the few remaining dark clouds lurking about. “You hid his presence from me.”

Alas, the dark clouds of the Storm Dragon do not give Bright Sword any answers. They merely fade away.

“It seems this Mud has offended,” Mud says.

“Inconvenienced,” Bright Sword corrects him. “You have inconvenienced me. However, that is all your presence here boils down to. An inconvenience.”

Mud inclines his head in acknowledgment.

“Mud usually is that, yes.”

Silence falls over the room. Both cultivators gauge each other carefully. Their power slowly fills the room. It is quiet. Gradual.

Even an Earth Realm cultivator would struggle to breathe in their presence.

“Is there any way I could convince you to never breathe a word of what you have just heard?” Bright Sword asks him, his casual tone belying the increasingly hostile clash of their aura.

“That would make things easier, would it not?” Mud muses. A resigned smile tugs at his lips. “Alas, this Mud does not lie.”

The air sharpens.

“What a pity.” Bright Sword’s eyes are without emotion. “I took you for a reasonable person.”

“I apologize for disappointing you,” Mud says regretfully. “Rest assured, I believe myself to be a reasonable person as well, and it is reason that will not permit me to trust you.”

“It’s a difference of opinion then.” Bright Sword thinks it over and nods. “Let us settle this properly then.”

Bright Sword brings his hand down and…

Bright Sword brings his hand down and…

Bright Sword brings his hand down and…

He takes a step back.

“Curious,” he says, looking at Mud with new eyes. “That was very curious.”

Mud gives him a small nod.

“I am glad a disciple of Peerless Heavenly Sword approves.”

“I do not say I approved. I said it was curious,” Bright Sword corrects him. “However, what will happen if I do this?”

Bright Sword slashes air.

Bright Sword slashes air.

Bright Sword slashes air.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

He takes a step back.

“Now, I approve,” Bright Sword says, taking a few steps back. “To be honest, you had caught my eye earlier. I cannot imagine what went through the head of the one who made you. To twist someone so thoroughly is not the act of someone sane.”

“I do not think anyone can be said to be completely sane,” Mud replies. “However, I would appreciate it if you did not speak ill of my master. Twisted though his actions may seem, I am grateful for them.”

“Ah.” An odd smile appears on Bright Sword’s face. “You are crazy as well.”

He slices the air. A thin cut appears on the roof above their heads.

He slices the air. The wall behind Mud is cut down.

He slices the air. A scar appears on the floor.

Bright Sword smiles.

“Once upon a time, someone said this: For someone to move, he must first reach the middle point to his destination. However, before reaching the middle point, he must reach the middle point to the middle point, and before that, the middle point to the middle point to the middle point. For every action, a person must cross an infinite number of middle points. Since it is impossible to perform an infinite number of actions, movement is an impossibility. An illusion.”

Mud says nothing.

“That is what you do,” Bright Sword says, pointing at him. “You materialize that impossibility. Any time I try to attack you, my movement becomes an impossibility. Even trying to hit you as a side-effect will not work. You are a stumbling block. I do not know your exact Dao, but I know its purpose. You confound the talented by presenting them with something they have never encountered: An insurmountable obstacle. Utter and complete futility. To be able to achieve such a thing, you must have been quite untalented.”

“I see the reputation of the powers beyond the Dead Plains is not lacking in the slightest,” Mud says. He brings his hands together and bows. “I truly am grateful to meet such a brilliant flower.”

“I could overpower you,” Bright Sword says. His words are without boast or pride. “Your ability is noteworthy, but the disparity between our power makes it meaningless.”

The space around them quivers and trembles. All begins to distort.

It stops.

“However, there is no need to,” Bright Sword continues.

Bright Sword touches his sword.

Blood spurts from Mud’s shoulder.

“A good sword does not leave its sheath,” Bright Sword tells him. “If it never leaves its sheath, its movement cannot be proven.”

Mud smiles.

And laughs.

It is a loud but awkward laughter, like a door that has gone without use for so long its hinges have rusted entirely.

"This Mud... apologizes," Mud says in between laughter. "I genuinely do not mean to offend. I would not dare to think of laughing at you. It is just... I am happy. For this Mud to be taken so seriously by someone of the Heavenly Sword, I am happy."

Bright Sword observes the smiling Mud in silence for several seconds.

"I spoke ill of your master before," he says, assuming a stance. "I wish to offer my sincere apologies."

"I receive them gratefully and stand ready to receive your guidance," Mud says, doing the same.

"I hope you have made peace with yourself. My guidance will be harsh. You will not survive it."

"This Mud endeavors to surprise you."

~~~

Qing Guo runs through the corridors of the palace.

Well, not quite the palace, he amends mentally. The spatial realm created by the shadow of his great and powerful Ancestor just happens to look like the palace. Its layout is actually completely different. The rooms seem to have been scattered randomly. Corridors go on without end, and doors will appear and disappear without rhyme or reason. Certainly, this labyrinthine realm will confuse any invading force, just like his Ancestor claimed it would.

However, what is the point of that if he’s just as lost?

Qing Guo lets out a frustrated shout as he opens a door and finds a wall. He has gone through the kitchen floor into a chimney and out into a bath. Now he’s in a winding corridor with dozens of doors, none of which lead back to Lady Su’s room!

To think such a gentle soul is all on her own at such a dangerous time! This is the very thing Qing Guo wanted to avoid! That is why he went to her room before space shifted! He had done his best to reassure her that everything would be fine, but the poor dear had been so worried that Qing Guo had no choice but to go outside to prove to her that no invaders were lurking out there.

Unfortunately, as soon as he left her room, the spatial realm shifted, and the door that led to Lady Su’s door suddenly didn’t.

“Honored Ancestor!” he shouts. “Give me a sign!”

Predictably, like all the previous times, the Storm Dragon does not answer his call. Angry, Qing Guo kicks down the next door he comes across.

Red meets red.

The red eyes, the dark hair, and even the lines of their faces are similar. It is as if he has stumbled upon a mirror. However, there are differences as well. There’s a hardness to this stranger that is lacking in his own face, a surety to his stance, a heaviness to his presence.

For some reason, Qing Guo feels smaller.

“Who are you?” The words Qing Guo intended to come out as a demand are full of confusion instead.

The stranger’s eyes widen by the smallest fraction. The gesture is so subtle that Qing Guo is almost inclined to believe he imagined it.

“I see,” the stranger says. “You must be Prince Qing Guo. I wondered whether our paths would cross.”

Qing Guo immediately leaps back and assumes a fighting stance.

“Knowing my name will not help you, intruder! You will find this Prince is not an easy foe!”

The stranger does not seem intimidated by his loud voice or his aura. He merely stares at him without even bothering to put up his guard.

“Can you really not tell who I am?” The stranger asks, pointing at himself. “I recognized you as soon as I saw you, but very well. I was born as Liu Jin, but in this country, it’s probably more appropriate to call myself Qing Jin.”

“So it’s you!” Qing Guo points at him dramatically. “You’re the fake behind this vile insurrection!”

“Fake?” The stranger blinks. “Is that what you have been told? How do you explain the Grand Storm no longer being there then?”

“A fake is fake!” Qing Guo replies. “My father and I are the only members the royal family needs! If I take you down here and now, it’s the same as winning the entire war!”

Qing Guo’s aura flares up higher than it ever has before. Lightning crackles all around him. The idea of single-handedly winning this civil war boosts his confidence to new heights.

He charges.

Qing Guo moves faster than he ever has before. The floor breaks. The glass windows shatter. The tapestries are ignited in his wake. His focus is entirely on the enemy before him.

Qing Guo falls.

Small pangs of pain in his elbow, shoulder, and knee are the only warning Qing Guo gets before he somehow stumbles and falls on his face.

“What is the meaning of this?” Qing Guo shouts. He tries to get up, and his face pales.

He cannot move his arm.

Qing Guo stares in horror as he tries to move his limb, but all he can do is make it wobble lifelessly like a piece of meat.

“What did you do to me?!”

“Do not worry,” Qing Jin says. “It’s only temporary. You might wish to fight me, but I do not wish to do you much harm.” He seems to think about it and adds, “It’s probably best if I take you hostage here. This will all go easier if you just give up now.”

“Arrogant!”

Qing Guo throws himself in another attack, but it’s no more successful than his first one. He grits his teeth in anger as the usurper keeps dodging without any trouble whatsoever.

It is like trying to catch water!

“I will not give up!” Qing Guo roars. “No matter how strong you are, you will not find this Qing Guo an easy foe! I will defeat you, save Lady Su, and-”

He is on his back.

Qing Guo blinks.

“What?”

The stranger harshly steps on his mobile arm, making Qing Guo gasp in pain.

“You just said something very interesting.”

Qing Guo shivers.

~~~